


A Home Is Made Of Hopes And Dreams

by allegre



Series: Love Comes From The Heart [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't you worry, F/M, Little Targlings, Rhaego is back, Targaryen Family Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, no Khal Drogo, the sequel that was promised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegre/pseuds/allegre
Summary: Sequel to Love Comes From The Heart.Drogo died, but Rhaego lived. In Part I, Rhaego tells us his version of the events of Season 7 and 8 (?), Dany & Jon's first encounter, their journey north, the Battle for the Dawn, a Jonerys wedding and the arrival of Jonerys baby, Rhaego's little sister Elaena, before the Targs finally leave Winterfell to take the capital. In this sequel, Rhaego takes us with him as he adjusts to life in King's Landing, makes new friends, travels the Seven Kingdoms and finally returns to Winterfell for a very special occasion.





	A Home Is Made Of Hopes And Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This, my fellow fangirls and -boys, is the second instalment in the Love Comes From The Heart series, brought to you (again) by the one and only, Prince Rhaego of House Targaryen. 
> 
> Yes, I know, it took me forever to write this. And yes, I also know that many of you wanted this sequel to be from Jon or Dany's perspective. While I do see how that would be fun to explore as well, this is Rhaego's story. And I couldn't bring myself to take it away from him. Plus, he tells it so well. At least I think so, anyway. 
> 
> Oh, and! I promise I won't keep you much longer but I want to say two more things. First, I'm aware that the word count here is a bit scary. I got a little carried away. Also, I've been working on this for almost 3 months now. I usually don't have a lot of time to write, so most of this was drafted on long haul flights and at airports. So, let's blame my loyal friend jet lag for this 20k words monstrosity, alright? 
> 
> Second, and this is a first for me, I want to say thank you. Yes, to YOU, Sharon. And not just for helping me with this silly fic, brainstorming it with me and answering all my questions. No. Above all, I just want to thank you for being a really, really, (as Rhaego would say) wonderful human being. A creative mastermind, a walking GoT encyclopedia, a good friend ... the sweetest soul. Thank you for walking among us. 
> 
> Also, thank you to all you other beautiful human beings out there who read and loved the first part of Rhaego's story. Thank you for your comments and messages. This sequel is dedicated to all of you. 
> 
>  
> 
> Lots of love to you, wherever you are!  
> XOXO  
> Allegra

                                                       

* * *

 

 

 

It was at the foot of his parents big bed that Rhaego woke up on his first morning in King’s Landing.  

 

He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the underside of his sister’s little foot, barely a few inches away from his nose. He reached out a hand to tickle it but then, remembering how forcefully Elaena had kicked him in the gut the last time he had done that, he changed his mind and instead turned his head, now facing a hairy leg that he knew belonged to his Pa. Finally, Rhaego sat up and, from his end of the bed, looked at the rest of his still sleeping family. It was a jumble of limbs and sheets. His Mama was lying on her side with his little sister curled up against her. Elaena had one leg slightly bend at the knee, pointing towards their Pa, who was sleeping on the opposite side of the bed, while the other was still sprawled out straight towards Rhaego . He yawned. It was probably still early, but he could see sunlight trickling through the gaps in the curtains, which meant that at least outside day had already begun, and his Pa couldn’t tell him to go back to sleep. As long as the sun slept in the sky, all people down on earth were supposed to sleep as well. ' _That includes you, Rhaego’_ , his Pa had said. And Rhaego found it was a reasonable rule. His parents had less reasonable rules as well. _No toys at the dinner table, no feeding Ghost from the dinner table … no leaving the dinner table without asking permission_. In fact, most less reasonable rules revolved around the dinner table. Sometimes, but only in his head, Rhaego called them _stupid_ rules. He’d never say that out loud because swearing was also against the rules. Swearing was rude and Rhaego agreed, at least most of the time. 

 

He got on his knees and crawled over to where his Pa was quietly snoring into his pillow. Rhaego grinned. At Winterfell, his Mama had used to tease his Pa about his snoring when he slept. Then one night, his Pa had woken Rhaego up, a finger over his lips, signalling him to be quiet and wordlessly pointing at his Mama, sound asleep against a stack of pillows, Elaena still a big bump in her belly. For a moment, Rhaego had been very confused, but then he’d heard the faint whistling sound, and upon seeing the smirk on his Pa’s face he’d understood. He’d had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing then, mostly because seeing his Pa in such good spirits always made him want to laugh along with him. Of course his Mama had denied it the next morning. _‘Oh, my boys! But proper ladies don’t snore! I can’t believe you both didn’t know that!’_ , she’d said. His Pa had rolled his eyes and mumbled something about ‘ _not that proper’_  and Rhaego had reminded his Mama that she was not a lady but a queen and it very much seemed like queens did indeed snore because she definitely had. However, he’d decided not to argue this point any further when his Mama had threatened no dessert for a week. Obviously, that had been too high of a price to pay. Especially since he and his Pa had known they were right anyway.

 

“Pa?”  

 

Rhaego used his whisper voice. After his sister had been born he’d quickly understood how unpleasant it was to be woken up by a screaming baby. The thought alone made him a little grumpy. So by now, he knew better than to yell. Elaena had gotten better, too. She was still fussy sometimes, but it'd been a while ago that she’d last screamed for hours at a time at night. His Mama had once explained to him that Elaena had experienced a lot of scary things when she’d still lived in her belly, and that was why she got so upset sometimes. The memories of these scary things were giving her nightmares. At that, Rhaego had felt a big lump form in his throat. It had hurt him to think that his tiny baby sister was having nightmares. He knew how frightening bad dreams could be. He’d asked his Mama if the Night King was one of these scary things and when she’d nodded he’d wanted to know how Elaena could have nightmares of the Night King if she’d never seen him. _‘But I have, Rhaego,’_ his Mama had replied and pulled him onto her lap, hugging him tightly against her, _‘I’ve seen him and everything I felt your sister felt, too. That’s why we left you behind to stay with Aunt Sansa. So you’d never have these nightmares. We couldn’t leave Elaena behind because she was still in my belly. All we can do now is protect her and comfort her and make her feel safe with us.’_ Rhaego had nodded determinedly. _‘I will always keep her safe, Mama. I promise.’_ His Mama hadn't said anything else. She'd just kept hugging him. 

 

“Pa?,” Rhaego said again and when no reaction came he turned around, leaned forward and rested his head next to his Pa’s on the pillow. “It’s morning, Pa. The sun is up, I can see it.” He reached out a hand and gave his Pa’s bearded cheek a gentle pat. It earned him an incomprehensible grumble as his Pa rolled onto his back, but still kept his eyes closed. For a moment, Rhaego got distracted. _The marks_. He’d seen them many times, and most of the time he wasn’t even aware that they were there anymore. His Pa had always had them, for as long as he’d known him, anyway. He’d already examined them a few times when his Pa had slept like this, remembering the story he’d told him about how he’d gotten the marks. _'Scars, Rhaego. They’re scars,’_ he'd explained. Except they didn’t really look like scars, Rhaego found. They still looked like wounds. He knew why, too. They’d been healed with magic. That’s why. His Pa had looked sad when he’d told the story. And when he’d eventually fallen silent his Mama had taken his Pa’s hand. _‘People get hurt and carry the scars. Every day. We’re not invincible. That’s important to remember, Rhaego,’_ she’d said. _‘But the point is that even though we can’t change anything about what happened, we do get to decide what our scars mean to us. I’ve decided that your Pa’s scars will always remind me of how grateful I am that he’s here, that he’s alive and that we get have him with us.’_ There, Rhaego had once again decided that his Mama truly was the smartest person he knew. 

 

“How about you try to go back to sleep for a bit longer?” 

 

His Pa’s voice was hoarse and raspy with sleep. He moved his arm and patted the mattress beside him. But Rhaego shook his head. 

 

“I think I’m too awake, Pa. I don’t think I can,” he whispered. “You promised you’d show me.”  

 

His Pa grumbled again. He tended to grumble a lot in the morning. 

 

“And I promise you now, Rhaego, that it will all still be there when you wake up in an hour. It won’t disappear.”  

 

Rhaego sighed. “But I just told you. I _can’t_ sleep any more.” 

 

“Why is it always either you _or_ your sister sleeping in, but never both of you on the same day?”

 

Rhaego turned around to see his Mama awake, giving him a stern look but at the same time failing to hide a smile. 

 

“Aye, I’m starting to think that’s intentional.” His Pa was now smiling, too. Just like he often did when his Mama was around. He could be grumpy sometimes, Rhaego knew it was usually when he was worried about something. The wrinkles on his forehead gave it away. But they never lasted long when Rhaego’s Mama was near.

 

“Please, Pa! _Please_ , can you show me now? Please?” 

 

Rhaego was getting more and more excited, so much it made him terribly squirmy and wiggly. He only realized how his legs were kicking out on their own accord when Elaena started fussing next to him and he stopped at once. 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Leni, I didn’t mean to … .” Rhaego leaned towards her, gently placed a hand on her dark, curly hair and gave her a kiss on her sleep-rosy cheek. Elaena stopped crying as soon as she realized it was her brother loving on her. When Rhaego let her go, she rolled onto her tummy and then sat up, reaching for him. 

 

Rhaego giggled and stretched his out arms to help his baby sister onto his lap. She immediately snuggled her head against his chest. 

 

“You’re still her favorite,” his Mama smiled, gently rubbing Elaena’s back. 

 

“Aye, from the moment she first laid eyes on you,” his Pa confirmed, chuckling. He leaned over to Rhaego’s Mama to give her a kiss and Rhaego was glad it was only a quick one. Sometimes when they kissed they would simply not stop and Rhaego always thought that was a bit strange. He’d never kiss anyone like _that_. Regular kisses were just fine. 

 

“Let’s take a look then, see if you were right about the sun being up already.” His Pa swung his legs off the bed and got up. “If not, we’re all going back to sleep for at least three more hours.” 

 

His Mama laughed.

 

“But Pa! I can already see the light through the gaps there.” He pointed towards the windows. “I’m right!” 

 

Rhaego immediately felt the squirmy feeling return and he turned to his Mama. “Can you take Leni, please? Quickly? I need to get up!” 

 

Rhaego’s Mama reached for the baby on Rhaego's lap and when Elaena wailed in protest as her brother bolted off the bed, she began to unbutton the front of her night gown. “How about breakfast for you while the boys explore, hm?” 

 

Meanwhile, Rhaego stood in awe as his Pa opened the heavy velvet curtains that were covering the tall glass doors that lead out onto a balcony. For a moment, Rhaego had to shield his eyes with his hands as bright sunlight flooded the room. 

 

“Go on,” his Pa encouraged, “open the door.”

 

And Rhaego did. He felt a warm breeze ruffling his hair and the sun tickling his nose and cheeks as he stepped out onto the stone terrace. His Pa took him by the hand and lead him to the elegantly carved balustrade and then, realizing that it was too high for Rhaego to see anything beyond it, picked him up.

 

“Welcome to King’s Landing, Prince Rhaego!” 

 

It was even bigger than Rhaego had expected. It was … _enormous_! 

 

“You’re unusually quiet, son.” his Pa chuckled and Rhaego turned his head to look at him, eyes wide in astonishment. 

 

“Are there people living in every single house I can see?”, he whispered, staring at his Pa. 

 

His Pa nodded. “I think so. In most of them at least. Some parts of the city were destroyed. We talked about that, remember? The rebuilding has already begun but it will be a few years before everything will be finished.”

 

He did remember. Back then he had thought that once they’d arrive in King’s Landing everything his parents had said would make more sense. In a way, it did now. But he felt like he probably needed to come back a few times and look at the city from up here to make sure he wouldn’t forget that this view wasn’t something he’d imagined. 

 

After a few moments of silence he pointed towards the horizon. 

 

“I can even see the ocean, Pa! Look!” 

 

“Not too bad, huh?” 

 

No, it wasn’t bad, Rhaego found. It was different, their new home. Not like Winterfell at all. More like Meereen, maybe. But still, different.

 

  

* * *

 

 

It was in their first week of living in King’s Landing that Rhaego decided he needed a break. 

 

Elaena had been crying for hours. When Rhaego had returned from his riding lesson with Ser Jorah he’d heard the wailing as soon as they’d entered the family quarters, and she hadn’t really stopped since. It was excruciating. At first, Rhaego had though that he could probably calm her down. He knew a few tricks and Elaena’s nursemaids were always relieved when he managed to settle her down. It hadn’t worked this time. At some point around noon a maid had been sent to fetch his Mama. Rhaego had been sure she’d be able to make his sister feel better. So far, he’d been wrong. He could still hear Elaena, even through the closed nursery door. 

 

He was getting hungry, but what bothered him more was that he was also starting to feel very bored. Everyone was so worried about Elaena, they seemed to have forgotten him completely. The idea came to him when Ghost nudged open the door to his room with his snout and came padding across the soft carpet to where Rhaego sat on the floor, a few books and toys he’d tried to distract himself with scattered around him. Ghost gave a low whine and settled down next to Rhaego. 

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, either. She just won’t stop. It hurts my ears.” 

 

Ghost shifted to rest his head on Rhaego’s leg and Rhaego began to stroke the soft fur behind his ears. He heard his own stomach rumble and found that sometimes, _just sometimes_ , he missed the time before Elaena had been born, when it had just been him. He immediately felt guilty for having such a thought. He loved his sister. He loved her very much and he always missed her whenever they had to spend more than a few hours apart. She was just having a bad day. And then Rhaego remembered he'd had a bad day on their long journey to King’s Landing and how his Pa had told him that if he was unhappy with a situation, it was his responsibility to make a change. _‘Life is what you make it, Rhaego,_ ’ he’d said. Back then he’d found that saying a bit confusing and then one of the kitchen maids at Harrenhall where they’d stayed during that time had given him a bag full of honeycakes and he’d forgotten all about it. Until now. 

 

Ghost leapt up as Rhaego jumped to his feet. 

 

“Let’s go. We’re getting our own lunch!”

 

Nobody stopped them as they left the private family wing. Whistling happily, Rhaego crossed an open courtyard. He was still pleasantly surprised at the warmth every time he went outside. The winter had been so long and he’d gotten used to always wearing wool coats and scarfs and thick leather boots. He looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes in the open sandals he was wearing. It was a good feeling, fe found. Ghost was following him closely, his tongue now hanging out of the side of his mouth as he panted. Ghost definitely liked the snow better. 

 

Rhaego waved at the Unsullied guards they passed as they left the Red Keep through the big gates. They nodded at him, but mostly eyed Ghost. 

 

_They know I’m safe with Ghost_. 

 

With every step Rhaego took he felt more excited and less glum about the lousy morning he’d had. Going on an adventure with Ghost reminded him of Winterfell, of the time after the war had been won, when the days had become longer and lighter and the temperatures had slowly climbed and they’d been allowed outside of the castle gates again. At first, his Mama had forbidden that he went by himself and so Arya had accompanied him. Later, it had often been just Ghost and him. His Mama had realized the direwolf was really al the protection Rhaego needed. Rhaego had told her as much every day for weeks. And one day she’d stuck her fingers in her ears and laughed and told him to go before she changed her mind. 

 

Rhaego didn’t really have a plan. He didn’t exactly know where the food came from that the people in the city ate. But clearly, there had to be food somewhere with so many people living there. He imagined that maybe there were inns or taverns, like the one in the winter town where his Aunt Sansa had taken him a few times after Elaena had been born and his Mama had been sick. Well, strictly speaking his Aunt Sansa had said that his Mama wasn’t sick but just needed time to recover. _‘Like when you recover from being sick,’_ she’d said, ‘ _you need lots of peace and quiet and sleep.’_ And because Rhaego had decided that he found peace and quiet very boring, his Aunt Sansa had taken him with her on her visits to the winter town and they’d often gotten a meal at the inn before they’d returned to the castle. She’d even allowed him to pick his own food. _And dessert!_ It had all been terribly exciting. Then, on their long journey to King’s Landing, they’d stayed at inns a few times when they’d been too far away from castles that could host them. Of course he’d showed his parents how he could order his own food and had expertly made smalltalk with the servants. Usually, everyone present had found that very funny and there’d been lots of laughter and pats on the head for Rhaego. Sometimes, adults were simply very strange, Rhaego had decided back then. 

 

From the Red Keep’s gates a narrow cobblestone street lead dowhill into the city. The further away Rhaego and Ghost went from the castle, the busier it became. People stopped to look at them, some pointed right at him. He felt Ghost walk closer to him then, his fur touching Rhaego’s side. For a moment, Rhaego felt a bit uneasy. Not that he wasn’t used to people looking at him. After traveling from Winterfell to King’s Landing and visiting so many towns and villages and castles along the way, Rhaego was no stranger to the attention. ‘ _It’s important to be kind and polite to the people we meet, Rhaego_ ,’ his Mama had explained to him, ‘ _they are our people and they look to us for guidance and leadership. We treat them the way we treat each other in this family, and the way we want them to treat each other. We have to show the people that we care for them, that we respect them and that we’re kind and compassionate.’_  Remembering his Mama's words was comforting and he began to smile and wave at people, mainly women and children, he walked past. It became easier with every step and the jittery feeling in Rhaego’s stomach disappeared. 

 

Ghost and Rhaego kept walking until they reached a square. It was even busier than the street that had lead them down from the castle and Rhaego had to stop to take it all in. The place was bustling with people. And there was so much noise, too! Rhaego didn’t even know where to look first. It was all so fascinating! There was a well built of stone in the center of the square. Wooden market stalls were set up in a circle around the well and people were walking all around and in between them. Children were running around, laughing and shouting and chasing each other. Or maybe they were chasing the chickens? Rhaego couldn’t tell. He could see other animals, too. Quite a few horses, most of which were tied to or pulling a carriage or waggon. One market stall had a coop next to it. Another had a small paddock with goats and sheep. The stone houses that lined the edge of the square were mainly workshops, Rhaego had noticed right away. There were the familiar clanking noises he recognized  from Gendry the Smith’s forge at Winterfell and the hammering he knew came from a carpentry. 

 

He hadn’t been all too wrong after all. This place reminded him of the winter town. On certain days of the week, there had been a market there as well. His Aunt Sansa had shown him. She’d told him that before winter came, before the war, when she had been a child like Rhaego, there’d been a very nice lady who’d sold fresh lemon cakes at the winter town market. They were his Aunt Sansa’s favorite treat and sometimes her mother had taken her to the market and bought her a whole bag of them. Rhaego and his Aunt Sansa had looked for the lemon cake lady but never found her. His Aunt Sansa had said that she most likely hadn’t survived the winter. She’d been very old back when his Aunt Sansa had been a child. And when winter came and lemons could no longer be bought in the North she had been out of work as well. ‘ _Always remember that, Rhaego_ ,’ his Aunt Sansa had said, and there had been a lot of sadness in her eyes, ‘ _always remember what war does to people. How cruel it is. People like you and me tend to forget. And people like the lemon cake lady pay the price.’_  Rhaego had promised to remember. And he would. And even when he was King one day, as his Pa had said he would be, he would still remember. He never wanted to go to war again. 

 

Ghost’s growling next to him abruptly brought Rhaego out of his daydream. There was a girl standing right in front of him. Rhaego guessed she was around his age, maybe a bit older as she was a few inches taller than him. Her dark blonde hair was plaited into two long braids that almost reached her waist. Rhaego briefly thought of Qhono and what he might have to say about a little girl with such long braids. The girl's stare was intimidating. Her eyes were green and piercing and it seemed like she hadn’t blinked since Rhaego had noticed her. 

 

Ghost growled gain and Rhaego averted his eyes to look at the direwolf instead, placing a hand on his back and whispering: “It’s alright, Ghost. It’s alright.”

 

“Will it bite me if I touch him?” 

 

Rhaego looked up again. The girl’s expression seemed oddly inscrutable. It made her look like a grown up and even more intimidating. But for some reason Rhaego also found it a bit sad. 

 

“Not if I tell _him_ not to.” 

 

This time he held her probing gaze. Rhaego briefly thought of his Mama and how she sometimes looked at his Pa with that sort of sharpness in her eyes when they were disagreeing about something. They never argued in front of him and his sister. At least not with words. From his own experience, he knew that his Mama was almost always right. It rarely made sense to argue with her. Contradicting her was a decision that was to be made deliberately. His Pa knew that, too. Sometimes he would turn around and roll his eyes. Rhaego had to be careful not to laugh then. Fortunately, his parents never disagreed for long. They usually made up quickly. On those nights Missandei would sleep in Elaena’s nursery so they could cuddle up with her when they woke up. His parents were not to be disturbed. Rhaego assumed that apparently, making up with someone took longer for grown ups that it did for children. 

 

Rhaego stood up a little straighter and pushed his shoulders back to make himself taller. It was something his Pa would do when the disagreement was too serious for an eye roll. 

 

“And if you tell him to kill me? Would he kill me?” 

 

There was a hint of a smirk around the girl’s mouth. Rhaego frowned. 

 

“I would never do that,” he assured her a bit startled. 

 

“But you could?” 

 

Rhaego wasn’t sure what to make of the quizzical look in the girl’s eyes.

 

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I’ve never tried.”

 

“Why not?,” she asked, strangely surprised. 

 

Now it was Rhaego who was smirking. This had to be a joke. 

 

“Why would I? I’ve never wanted to kill anyone. That would be terrible.” 

 

The girl remained very serious. “Not even the people you hate?”

 

Rhaego shrugged. “I don’t hate anyone.” 

 

“Pfff!”, she scoffed, “everybody hates _someone_.” 

 

“I don’t,” Rhaego said firmly, grabbing at the fur on Ghost’s neck with one hand. It was reassuring to know he wasn’t alone. The girl didn’t reply, but Rhaego noticed she was eyeing his clothes curiously and the scrutiny made him uncomfortable. Only now did he realize how much his ruby-red breeches and shirt made him stand out in this place. The girl wasn’t the only one staring at him, either. A small crowd had gathered around them. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t even noticed. 

 

Suddenly, his stomach gave a loud rumble as if to remind him why he’d come here in the first place. When he looked at the girl in front of him again, he was surprised to see her stony expression had softened. Her eyes were no longer cold and icy, the look she gave him was kind, and maybe a bit sad, too. Before Rhaego could dwell on her sudden change in demeanor however, she turned around and began to walk away from him. 

 

_Wait_ , he wanted to tell her. _Don’t go._  

 

And then she turned her head and waved at him. “What are you waiting for?,” she called, “keep up, _doofus_.” 

 

_Calling people names is against the rules_ , Rhaego thought. But he followed her anyway. He found he didn’t really have much of a choice. 

 

"Where are we going?” He’d managed to catch up with her quite quickly. Matching his stride with hers proved to be more challenging. 

 

“Food,” was her more than curt reply. 

 

“Food?”

 

She looked at him and rolled her eyes at him. “You’re hungry. We’re getting some food.” 

 

“But where?” Rhaego had never met such a confusing person in his life. Lord Varys was the only one who might come close. 

 

“Just around the corner here,” the girl announced and made an indistinct gesture with her hand. 

 

She was now walking so fast Rhaego had to start jogging, Ghost at his heels. 

 

“What’s your name?” If his Mama was here she would tell him it was impolite he hadn’t asked sooner. It had completely slipped his mind. 

 

“What’s yours?,” she asked instead of answering his question. 

 

“I’m Rhaego,” Rhaego said, then nodded his head at Ghost, “and this is Ghost.” 

 

“What a strange name.” 

 

Rhaego shrugged. “My Mama gave it to me. I like it.”

 

“Where are you from?” She turned his head to look at him. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She rolled her eyes again. _That’s rude_ , Rhaego thought. 

 

“I mean, _where are you from?_ Where do you live?” 

 

“Oh,” Rhaego said. “Yes, uhm … ,” he pointed at one of the high towers of the Red Keep visible above the buildings lining the street they were walking down, “up there.”

 

“The castle?” Her voice sounded amused. 

 

Rhaego nodded. 

 

“That’s where the King and Queen live.” 

 

“I know,” Rhaego replied, "they are my parents.” 

 

The girl stopped dead in her tracks, mustering him for a second. Then she burst out into hearty laughter. Rhaego wasn’t surprised. But it still bothered him.

 

“You’re lying,” she told him between giggles. 

 

“I’m not,” he said as unfazed as he was able to and started walking again, a bit slower now. 

 

“I don’t believe you.” There was still a a fair amount of irritating smugness in her voice, but Rhaego could also hear a tinge of doubt. 

 

“That’s alright.” 

 

They walked in silence for a moment. 

 

“I’m Reka.”

 

For some reason, learning the girl’s name felt important, almost as if she was confiding a secret to him. Rhaego smiled, and to his surprise, Reka smiled back. If only briefly. 

 

They turned a corner and Rhaego was hit with an onslaught of sweet smells. Up until now, Rhaego had tried to ignore the rather unpleasant odor that made the air feel strangely thick. All the more potent was the delicious scent of freshly baked goods. It made his stomach give another deep rumble. 

 

He looked at Reka. "Where are we?”

 

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You’ve never been here? 

 

Rhaego shook his head. The number of things he he’d had to admit not knowing about in the short time he’d known Reka was starting to bug him. She probably thought he was a bit thick. And that wasn’t true at all. He usually knew a lot of things.  

 

“This is the Street of Flour,” Reka announced, “all the bakers have their shops here.” 

 

Rhaego and Ghost had stopped in front of an open storefront. A maid had just taken a tray of fresh bread rolls out of an enormous iron oven and was transferring them onto a wooden tabletop to cool off. The sight made Rhaego’s mouth water. 

 

“Come on, we’re almost there.” Reka had seized his arm and he reluctantly let her drag him along. Even Ghost, who hadn’t left his side since they’d left the Red Keep, Rhaego had to call twice to follow him. 

 

Reka finally stopped in front of a red brick building. “Wait here,” she told Rhaego and before he could voice his protest, she had disappeared into the dark inside of the bakery. Through a dusty window Rhaego could see her talking to a boy dressed all in white. He was much taller than her but it was too dark to see his face properly. Reka pointed at him then and he quickly turned away, hoping she hadn’t caught him staring. 

 

When Reka came out a short moment later, she was holding something wrapped in a piece of grey cloth in her hands. 

 

“Have a peek”, she encouraged. Emboldened by her grin and prompted by curiosity and his hungry stomach, he quickly complied with her request. He unfolded the cloth and was barely able to hold back a squeal of delight when he saw the three blueberry tarts she was holding. 

 

“I wasn’t sure if Ghost likes cake but—“ 

 

“He loves sweets!” Rhaego beamed, “and so do I!” 

 

They sat down on an old upside down wooden crate that somebody had abandoned on the side of the street and immediately began to munch on their tarts. Rhaego thought they might just be the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten in his entire life. In between bites he fed Ghost small pieces of his own. Ghost seemed to like the tart even more than Rhaego and Reka did because he soon got impatient with the little pieces Rhaego was giving him and snatched the pastry out of Rhaego’s hands and devoured it whole. Reka started laughing and so did Rhaego. She was a strange girl, there was no doubt about that. Rhaego was sure that in the short time he’d known her she’d broken the majority of his parents’ good behavior rules. Not that Rhaego minded of course. In fact, even though he still found her a bit intimidating, he quite enjoyed her company. Back in Meereen, he used to have lots of friends he played with almost every day. But ever since coming to Westeros, there hadn’t been many children around for him to play with. He’d made friends with two boys at Winterfell and had been very sad when they’d had to say their farewells. Now in the Red Keep it was really only Elaena and him. He hadn’t seen any other children since their arrival in the capital. Therefore, meeting Reka was all the more exciting. He was hoping she might want to be his friend. 

 

“Rhaego?” 

 

“Huh?” Rhaego quickly swallowed the big bite of fruit tart in his mouth. “I mean, yes?” 

 

Reka smirked. But then her face turned more serious. “What _will_ Ghost do if I touch him?”

 

“He likes being scratched behind his ears. Go ahead, try it! He won’t hurt you, I promise.” 

 

As if Ghost had understood - which Rhaego thought he probably had - he sat down on his hind legs, looking at Reka expectantly. Rhaego gave Reka an encouraging smile as she slowly reached out a scrawny hand towards the direwolf. Rhaego was about to tell her _‘See, I told you’_ when Reka drew back her hand abruptly and spun around. 

 

“Shit!”

 

Rhaego couldn’t believe his ears. _Had she really just said that?_

 

Reka whirled around again and grabbed his arm. “Royal guard! We have to get out of here!” 

 

“What?” Rhaego was thoroughly confused. He turned his head to see what had prompted Reka’s strange - or even stranger - behavior. The Street of Flour was incredibly busy. But distantly, he thought he could hear a familiar sound … .

 

“Come on, _doofus_! We have to go. Now!” 

 

She began to pull at his arm, but Rhaego stood rooted to the spot. When Ghost gave a growl, Reka immediately let go of him. 

 

_Royal guard. Wasn’t that—_

 

"Are you coming or not?” She sounded almost panicked. 

 

And then, there he was. Ser Jorah - t _heir_ Ser Jorah - walking down the Street of Flour in his armor, his long sword at his hip. _Of course!_ Rhaego laughed in relief but simultaneously felt like slapping his own head. _Royal guard_. Royal meant King and Queen! He knew that. 

 

He turned to Reka who was looking at him wide eyed, alarmed but now also rather confused. 

 

“Don’t worry. I know him. That’s Ser Jorah. He’s my friend!” 

 

Reka shook her head vigorously. “No! He’s not. They’re evil! Nasty pricks, all of them!” 

 

And before Rhaego could reply, she ran. She had disappeared into an alley before Rhaego had found his voice to call after her. She was gone. 

 

“Rhaego!”

 

Upon turning around once more, Rhaego saw that Ser Jorah had spotted him and was hurriedly walking towards him. People left and right had stopped their shopping, their walking, some even their working and were watching them. But Ser Jorah didn’t seem to care. 

 

“ _Seven bloody hells!_ Rhaego!”

 

Rhaego was stunned. It was the first time he’d heard Ser Jorah swear. Ser Jorah was a knight. Knights usually didn’t do such things. 

 

When Ser Jorah had reached Rhaego and Ghost he just stared at them for a moment. It made Rhaego feel tingly all over, but not in a pleasant way. He was about to say something, _anything_ , to distract himself from the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that he was in trouble, when Ser Jorah knelt down in front of him and pulled him into his arms. Next to them, Ghost whined. 

 

“Your parents are worried sick. Everyone is! Your Pa sent 300 men to comb the city!” 

 

Rhaego swallowed thickly. He should have told them. He shouldn’t have left. He hadn’t been thinking. He had been _stupid_. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his head hanging dejectedly.

 

Rhaego was embarrassed. Usually, he was smart. He liked being smart. He was proud of it. _This_ hadn’t been smart. 

 

Ser Jorah had stood up again, a gloved hand now resting on Rhaego’s shoulder. “I know, lad. Although I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

 

Rhaego nodded. He remembered a day back in Meereen when Missandei had taken him to the market for an afternoon. They’d told Lord Tyrion but he had fallen asleep and by the time he had awoken and realized what was going on, half the pyramid had already been alarmed. Everyone had thought Missandei and Rhaego had been kidnapped. He’d never seen his Mama so upset. She’d cried when they’d returned even though Lord Tyrion had already cleared up the misunderstanding. 

 

“I just wanted to explore down here. Pa promised to take me but he’s always busy and Mama … and Leni was crying all morning… and we were hungry and …—“

 

“I understand, Rhaego. I do. But we’re not in Winterfell anymore, where you could just go out and play. The city is different. It’s a much more dangerous place. Especially for you. It’s very important that you’re always careful and never go off by yourself without protection. Do you understand?”

 

Rhaego nodded again. He missed Winterfell. He missed Arya and his Aunt Sansa. He missed Gendry the Smith. Everything had been easier back at home. 

 

“Come on, lad. We better get you back to your parents before your Mama gets your brothers involved.” 

 

That made Rhaego smile. He imagined Drogon and Rhaegal showing up on the Street of Flour and causing a big spectacle. 

 

“They’re too big, Ser Jorah. They couldn’t land here.” 

 

“Oh, I’m sure they’d find a way. They’d do anything for you."

 

That made Rhaego smile even more. He truly had the best big brothers anyone could wish for. 

 

Rhaego let his eyes and thoughts wander as they made their way back up the hill. Now that Ser Jorah was with him it was much easier to take everything around him in. When they’d almost reached the castle gates, Rhaego remembered how Reka had fled so suddenly when she’d seen Ser Jorah. 

 

“Why are people afraid of the royal guard, Ser Jorah?”

 

His question made Ser Jorah stop and turn towards him. He contemplated for a moment, then replied: “That’s because the royal guard have not always been good people. Unfortunately, especially under the last queen, some of them were terrible people. And I think they were probably violent towards the smallfolk without reason.”

 

“Can you show them that you’re not like that?” Most of all, Rhaego wanted Ser Jorah to show one person he’d met. 

 

“I can try. We all have to try and prove that we are better than our predecessors. But it will take time.” 

 

 

* * *

  

 

 

It was on a rainy Sunday evening that Rhaego felt incredibly lonely.

 

He missed his parents. Not that they had gone away, not really at least. But he hardly ever got to see them these days. They were always really, _really_ busy. It had been weeks since his Mama had last come to his room to wake him up in the morning. There had been a time when she used to do that every day. Even after his sister had been born. And apart from a few rare exceptions they’d always had their meals together. Rhaego remembered that even during the war one of his parents had usually been there to eat breakfast and dinner with him. But here in the capital, everything was different. And not only his parents were always busy, but so was everyone else. Rhaego didn’t mind the new maids. They were all very nice. But they weren’t Missandei. _His_ Missandei. Well, now she was _their_  Missandei. But when it came to Elaena, Rhaego didn’t mind sharing. Especially since he knew how much his little sister missed their parents, too. And Elaena didn’t like the new maids. She didn’t care that they were nice. She wanted Missandei back, just like Rhaego did. And it had only gotten worse when his Mama had decided that she was now old enough to eat regular food. Elaena hadn’t agreed one bit. 

 

It was the weekend and Rhaego had hoped everyone would finally take a break from ruling. He’d been so wrong. This morning, when he’d entered the family dining room, holding the hand of his sister, who was walking next to him on her own two feet, wobbly legged but with a proud smile on her face, their Mama had already left and their Pa had just finished his breakfast, ready to leave as well. He’d ruffled Rhaego’s hair and given Elaena a kiss, and when Rhaego had asked him if he could stay a little longer he’d shaken his head glumly. _‘I have to go. I’m late already,_ ’ he’d said, already halfway to the door, ‘ _But I promise I’ll be back before you two go to bed. We’ll read a story together.’_

 

The prospect of finally getting to spend some time with his Pa had gotten him through a rather dull day.

 

Rhaego sighed, stood up from the armchair he’d been sitting on for the last half hour and put the book he’d picked for their bedtime story back on the shelf. Their Pa was late. He’d promised and he never broke his promises. But he was late. The sun had already set and Elaena’s nursery was only dimly lit by a few candles in their holders mounted high on the walls. 

 

Rhaego crossed the room to his sister’s crib. She was lying on her tummy, still awake but unusually calm and quiet. Missandei had eaten dinner with them and afterwards, when Rhaego had insisted that their Pa would come to read and tuck them in, she’d looked rather unconvinced but hadn’t argued and merely told him to change into his night clothes while she'd prepared Eleana for bed. He’d then settled into the armchair and assured Missandei that their Pa was most likely on his way and they’d be alright waiting for him by themselves. To Rhaego it felt like that had been hours ago.

 

As Rhaego came to stand next to the crib Elaena sat up, reaching for her big brother with chubby arms. Rhaego smiled at her. It still sometimes surprised him how much he loved that little person that could barely walk, let alone talk properly. _Sure_ , every now and then he would get cross at her for screaming and being difficult. But even through the screaming and the dreadful tantrums, he still loved her. And if he was being completely honest, he wasn’t ever truly cross at her, but rather frustrated and sad that he couldn’t help her and protect her from what made her so upset sometimes. 

 

“Hold on, Leni. I need to get the stool.” 

 

He’d gotten a fair bit taller since they’d arrived in King’s Landing, Missandei had said so herself the other day when they’d realized his favorite pair of breeches had somehow turned into shorts. Soon he’d be able to lift his sister out of her crib without any aid. 

 

Elaena wrapped her little arms around Rhaego’s neck as he carefully stepped off the stool and carried her over to the window that overlooked the city below. It was mostly dark, but here and there they could see a few illuminated windows. 

 

“You know, Pa says there're people living in almost every single house down there.” Rhaego looked at his sister who was staring transfixed at the night sky, one chubby hand pressed against the windowpane. “That’s a lot of people,” he continued, “I don’t know exactly how many, but definitely more than all the people living in the winter town. Maybe even Winterfell and the winter town added together.” He felt Elaena's head coming to rest on his shoulder. She felt a bit heavier now, so completely relaxed, but Rhaego didn’t mind. He was strong. 

 

“Mama and Pa are trying to help the many, many people living down in the city … and all the people who live in other parts of Westeros that we can’t even see from here.” They’d explained this to Rhaego, and Missandei had, too, but he doubted anyone had bothered to explain it to Elaena. And didn’t she deserve to know, too? He knew she missed their Mama and Pa just like he did. “You see, Leni, that’s why they’re always so busy. It’s not because they don’t love us anymore. They love us just like we love them. But they’re the King and Queen and that means that they're the leaders. And Pa says good leaders love their people the way they love their family.” He paused and checked if his sister had already fallen asleep. She hadn’t. 

 

“I know it’s all a bit confusing,” Rhaego admitted thoughtfully, "and sometimes I wish it was all different. Sometimes I even wish we didn’t have to share them. It seems unfair. But—“

 

He was interrupted by a familiar sound from somewhere above and both Rhaego and Elaena leaned closer to the window. There was silence for a moment, but then their brothers came into view, flying loops high above the castle. Elaena smiled and pointed at Drogon and Rhaegal. Rhaego nodded and grinned back at his sister. 

 

“There they are! I bet they heard us and came to say goodnight. They’re a bit upset with Mama and Pa, too.”

 

Elaena gave Rhaego a pensive look, her little eyebrows furrowed as if deep in thought. She reached up with one of her chubby hands and gently - much gentler than expected from an uncoordinated toddler - laid it against Rhaego’s cheek. Then she turned her head to look out the window again, watching their brothers’ airborne tricks, their diving and turning and flipping. They were truly spectacular, Rhaego found. Even though he’d known them all his life, he was so proud of Drogon and Rhaegal. It was special to have dragon brothers he’d come to understand. 

 

_They’re here to cheer us up_. 

 

Rhaego wanted to tell Elaena but before the words could leave his mouth, he realized she knew. In that moment, he felt so deeply connected to his siblings, nothing needed to be said. They all just _knew_. And so Rhaego remained silent and enjoyed the warm feeling in his chest. He wasn’t alone. He would never be alone as long as he had _them_. 

 

After a while, his arms finally began to grow heavy with Elaena’s weight. 

 

“Say goodnight to Drogon and Rhaegal, Leni,” Rhaego whispered. After one last glance, he turned around and carried his sister back to her crib, stepping on the stool to carefully set her down on the soft mattress. Elaena’s eyelids were already drooping when Rhaego reached for her woollen blanket and gently tucked it around her little body. 

 

He was about to walk back to the big window to close the curtains when he noticed his Pa leaning against the door frame, watching him with a smile on his face. It was the one he didn’t use often, the one that took up his entire face and made Rhaego wish he could bottle it up for when he was sad. For a moment, Rhaego smiled back, but then he remembered the broken promise. He didn’t want to be angry with his Pa. He was happy that he’d finally come. But part of him was still disappointed. He’d wanted this night to be like before. He’d wanted a bedtime story and he’d wanted to sit in the big armchair with his Pa and Elaena. Now his sister was already asleep. His Mama always said that it was no use get upset over things that didn’t go as planned. ' _Good things can come out of bad situation, too, Rhaego. You just have to remember to keep your eyes open, to always be open-minded.’_

 

Rhaego found he’d been awfully open-minded in the last few weeks and nothing good had come out of the situation at all. 

 

“I know, Rhaego.” The smile had disappeared from his Pa’s face. He was using his whisper voice so Elaena's sleep wouldn't be disturbed, but Rhaego could tell he sounded disappointed, too. "It’s alright. You’re upset with me and that's alright. You have good reason to be.” He took a long breath and Rhaego thought it sounded like the air that he was drawing in was somehow too heavy for his lungs. 

 

“Let me say goodnight to your sister and we’ll go to your room and talk for a bit?”

 

Rhaego nodded. It was already past his bedtime, but since he would be with his Pa, he decided it probably wasn’t against the rules if he stayed up a little longer. 

 

They closed the door to Elaena’s nursery as quietly as possible behind them. Rhaego’s room was right across the hall. A single candle was burning on his bedside table, casting just enough light to reveal Ghost sleeping in his usual spot beside the bed. 

 

_Ghost. His loyal Ghost._

 

His Pa lifted the bed covers and Rhaego - after climbing over Ghost - crawled underneath. Rhaego was wearing his short summer bedclothes and the linen felt cold against his naked arms and legs. 

 

“Pa?”

 

“Hmm?” 

 

Half his Pa’s face was illuminated by the candlelight. Rhaego thought it made him look _mysterious_. He watched for a moment as his Pa moved a chair to sit next to Ghost at Rhaego’s bedside. 

 

“Do you like being King?” 

 

Rhaego had been wanting to ask his Pa this question for a while now. They'd talked quite a bit about what it meant to be a king. After all, Rhaego was going to be King one day, too. He also learned a lot about other Kings and Queens in his lessons with Maester Samwelll. He knew his parents were good at being King and Queen. Many people said so. He’d heard about the Queen that had reigned before them, too, and how she hadn’t been that good at all. The people had been scared of her because she’d been unkind and selfish. The stories about Queen Cersei had worried Rhaego a great deal. 

 

_‘See, it seems complicated, but it’s really not,’_ Maester Samwell had told him when he’d asked what exactly it was that made a king or a queen good or bad.  _‘Good leaders believe in the power of love instead of loving their power.’_

 

Queen Cersei had loved her power too much. Maester Samwell had said it had _corrupted_ her. Rhaego now knew that it meant that she had cared more about being powerful than about the people she’d had power over. 

 

_‘And her power was meaningless in the end. Because without love, everything becomes meaningless.’_

 

Rhaego had taken a moment to ponder this statement. Finally, when Rhaego had asked him _why_ , Maester Samwell had tapped a finger against the left side of Rhaego’s chest and smiled:  _‘Because love is the meaning. It’s the whole reason why we’re here.'_

 

His teacher’s words went through Rhaego’s mind as he now watched his Pa ponder _his_ question. 

 

“I don’t think I can answer that with a simple yes or no, son,” he finally said, scratching his beard in a manner that Rhaego thought was very _his-Pa-like_. 

 

“Maester Samwell always says those are the best kind of questions.” 

 

It was true, he had said that several times. Rhaego usually had lots of questions.

 

“That does sound like something our Sam would say, doesn’t it?,” his Pa grinned. “Well, the truth is, I like certain parts of it. I like that I have the authority and the means to change things. Your Mama and I together with our council can decide to get rid of things … rules or practices … that we deem wrong or unjust. We can make new laws and introduce new practices that we think are better. It’s a fair bit of work and sometimes it takes a while before we can come to an agreement that we think everyone will be happy with …. but yes, I’d say I do like that part.”

 

His Pa was usually pretty good at explaining complicated things without using too many grown up words that Rhaego didn’t understand. In fairness, he’d learned quite a few new grown up words since moving to the capital and starting his lessons with Maester Samwell. 

 

“And what is something that you don’t like?”

 

There were things, Rhaego knew. He could see it in his Pa’s face. Not all the time, just sometimes, when he thought nobody was watching. It was his worried face. Rhaego remembered it from before spring came, from when they’d been at war. He hadn’t seen that face in a while. Lately, it had reappeared. 

 

Again, his Pa took a moment before he answered.

 

“Most people think kings and queens can do anything, just because they sit on a throne and wear a crown. The reality is very different. None of these … _things_ … truly matter. And we’re by far not as powerful and influential as everyone thinks or even wants us to be. We can make decisions, and in theory they might be great, but putting them into practice takes years and years. And more often than not, despite our best efforts, a lot of our plans come to nothing.” Rhaego watched his Pa nod slowly, as if he’d been listening to somebody else talk. He looked … sad. _Discouraged_. “It will take decades, maybe even centuries, to right the wrongs in this country. And for every problem that we fix, two new ones seem to arise.” He sighed. “It’s frustrating sometimes. We all need to learn to be patient. It’s not easy, son.” 

 

At that, Rhaego slid from under his blanket and climbed first over Ghost and then into his Pa’s lap and hugged him tightly. When he felt his Pa’s strong arms wrap around him, he couldn’t help but let out a content sigh. 

 

They stayed like this for a bit, and when his Pa spoke again, Rhaego kept his ear pressed against his chest. His voice sounded different like that, deeper, and Rhaego could hear his Pa’s heartbeat thumping rhythmically, too. 

 

“You know, the hardest part about all of this, and I know your Mama feels the same way, is that we miss you and Elaena every second that we have to spend separated from you two. We love you _so_ much, Rhaego. You know that, right?” 

 

“Aye,” Rhaego said as his head was briefly jostled with his Pa’s chuckle, “I do. But I miss you, too.” 

 

His Pa sounded serious once more when he replied: “I know that after tonight my promise isn’t worth as much as it used to be, but things won’t be like this forever. It well get less hectic. Your Mama and I are going to talk to the council about us taking turns at some of the meetings and holding court. Give us a bit more time. We’ll get better. 

 

Rhaego nodded against his Pa’s shoulder. For the moment, he just really enjoyed being right where he was. 

 

After a while, his Pa asked: "Do you want to know what the best thing is about being King? 

 

“Yeah,” Rhaego said and looked up at his Pa. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He yawned.

 

“The best part is knowing that one day, my son will take over from me and continue what I didn’t get to finish. My goal is that the day you become king this country will be a better place than it is now, than it was when your Mama and I started our reign.” 

 

And suddenly, Rhaego wasn’t tired at all anymore. He rarely thought about the time when he hadn’t had a Pa. It had been so long ago. But something about what his Pa had just said had made him remember. 

 

_I’m his son and he’s my Pa._

 

Of course he was. But still, Rhaego thought it felt extra good to be reminded today. Now, there was one last thing he wanted to ask before he went to bed. 

 

“Do you think I will be a good king someday?"

 

This time, his Pa answered straightaway.

 

"Of course. A better king than I ever hope to be, Rhaego. I know it.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

It was after yet another one of Rhaego’s untimely visits to his parents bedroom that _they_ decided _they_ needed a break, too. 

 

Of course, that was not what they told Rhaego. He’d long since worked out that when it came to whatever adults did when they were alone behind closed bedroom doors, they hardly ever told the truth. When he asked, there was usually a lot of stammering, sometimes blushing, and always more bizarre stories that didn’t add up. With the exception of his Pa’s friend Tormund back at Winterfell, it seemed nobody wanted him to know. Unfortunately, the one time he’d gotten a chance to ask Tormund, Missandei had intervened and quickly chased him out of the room. Eventually, Rhaego had given up asking. It was no use. He figured he’d likely find out at some point. And, since everyone was being so weird about it, maybe he didn’t even want to know at all. 

 

So, when his Mama asked him one morning if he would like to spend a day at the beach with Missandei and his sister, he didn’t think anything of it right away. Except, of course, he got hugely excited. He wanted to go that same minute , but his Mama said it would happen the following day as they needed a bit more time to arrange everything and make preparations. 

 

That afternoon, while he was in his room, busy with his own beach day preparations, he overheard his Mama and Missandei as they were talking outside in the hallway. Eavesdropping was against the rules, Rhaego knew that. But leaving the door to his room open was also a rule. So he decided that it wasn’t really his fault that he could hear what people were saying as they were walking by. And it was even less his fault that his Mama and Missandei just happened to stop right in front of his room to finish their conversation. 

 

It was Missandei’s voice he heard first: “… and I will send somebody up to help you tomorrow morning. And if there are urgent—“

 

“It’s quite alright, don’t bother. The children will be taken care of, that’s all I’ll need from you tomorrow.” _Interrupting someone when they’re talking is against the rules, Mama,_  Rhaego thought. “Besides, I’m not really planning for us to leave our bedchamber at all.”

 

“I see,” he heard Missandei say next. For some reason she sounded like somebody had just told her a funny joke. “Well, you’ll be happy to know I’ve given the kitchen instructions to prepare enough food for the entire day. The children and I are going on a beach adventure that will keep us busy. No disturbances to be expected until bedtime.”

 

Now his Mama was laughing, too. Rhaego thought they weren’t making much sense. Why would anyone want to stay in their room for an entire day? He couldn’t think of anything more boring. Clearly, his parents knew something he didn’t. It was the unsolved bedroom mystery again. Rhaego had assumed his Mama and his Pa weren’t coming to the beach with them because they had work to do. Instead, there was a secret mission he and Elaena weren’t supposed to interfere with. He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that. Elaena was basically still a baby, it was probably fair she wasn’t let in on whatever was going on. But Rhaego was older. While she was allowed to play all day, he had to take lessons with Maester Samwell in the morning. When he messed up his room, he had to put away all the toys himself, while the maids did everything for Elaena. It didn’t seem fair that they were treating him the same way they were treating his baby sister when it came to secret missions, but not when it came to studying and straightening up his room. 

 

Rhaego was about to go and look for his Mama to voice his protest when he heard a knock and found an unexpected visitor standing in the open doorway to his room. 

 

“Grey Worm!” The name came out as a squeal of excitement and with a quick lunge, Rhaego threw himself into the Unsullied commander's arms. “You’re back! You’re finally, _finally_ back!” 

 

While Rhaego hugged him tightly, Grey Worm remained standing rather stiffly, just like he always did. Rhaego thought it was probably something all military commanders had to do. 

 

“Yes, I have returned shortly ago and come to tell Prince Rhaego right away, just like Prince Rhaego asked when I left.” 

 

Rhaego beamed. “I missed you, Grey Worm! I’m really, _really_ happy you’re back!” 

 

_What a surprise!_ Grey Worm had been gone for weeks. Rhaego’s Pa had sent him to Dorne, which was also a part of Westeros. Maester Samwell had shown Rhaego a map and explained that Dorne was one of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros and that it was ruled by House Martell. Rhaego had gotten a bit angry with his Pa for sending Grey Worm so far away. After all, he was their friend. And they’d already left so many friends behind at Winterfell. Rhaego’s Pa had said that it was necessary, whether they liked it or not. Rhaego hadn’t agreed. Missandei had been sad, too. He’d pointed that out to his Pa as well in his last attempt to reason with him, but his Pa had said that even though he hated being apart from Rhaego’s Mama, Rhaego and Elaena, he sometimes had to leave them, too. ‘ _We all have to do things we don’t like sometimes. That’s life, son. We’re trying to rebuild a country. It’s going to take sacrifices from all of us.'_

 

“I am happy, too, Prince Rhaego.”

 

“Does Missandei know?,” Rhaego asked, hardly able to contain his excitement and shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. It helped a bit. 

 

“She does. I must confess I went to Missandei first before coming to you, Prince Rhaego.”

 

Rhaego giggled. “That’s alright, Grey Worm. She missed you quite a lot, you know?” 

 

Grey Worm’s eyes went to the floor, but Rhaego could still see the smile on his face. 

 

“Did she tell you that we’re going on a beach adventure tomorrow?” Before Grey Worm had time to answer, Rhaego was struck by an idea. _A brilliant idea_. “Oh!”, he exclaimed, “you can come with us! Please? I’m sure Missandei would like that. And me, too! Please? Can you come with us? It’ll be so much fun!”

 

Grey Worm didn’t start jumping up and down like Rhaego did, but he was still smiling, so Rhaego assumed he was at least sharing some of his enthusiasm. 

 

“I would have to ask His Grace King Jon and Her Grace Queen Daenerys for permission first.”

 

“But you will?,” Rhaego pleaded, “you'll ask them?” 

 

“I will ask them, Prince Rhaego.” 

 

And suddenly, his parents’ secret mission didn’t seem very interesting at all, anymore. 

 

\--

 

To Rhaego’s great delight, his parents welcomed the idea of Grey Worm accompanying Missandei, Elaena and him to the beach enthusiastically. They were still required to take more guards with them, which Rhaego found a bit excessive, since they already had the Unsullied commander himself for protection. But his Mama insisted. 

 

As expected, it was exceptionally difficult to find sleep that night, and Rhaego was up long before Missandei came to wake him. 

 

“I see you’re not one bit excited,” Missandei laughed when she found Rhaego fully dressed, the little pack with the toys he wanted to bring along already on his back. 

 

“But I am!”, he cried out, spinning around so Missandei could see his backpack, “I’m ready!” 

 

Missandei laughed some more, and then made him sit down for breakfast, which Rhaego thought was just a waste of time. Luckily, his sister started making a big mess with the fruit Missandei had cut up for her, so she made a an exception and allowed Rhaego to eat the rest of his bread roll on the go. 

 

They met Grey Worm and five of his Unsullied in the open courtyard at the entrance to the private family quarters. There was not a single cloud in the sky and even though it was only morning, the sun was already shining strongly. Rhaego thought it was a perfect day for a beach adventure. 

 

Grey Worm led them through a long passageway towards the back of the Red Keep and finally through a door that led out onto a small stone landing. The balustrade was low enough for Rhaego to be able too see beyond it.

 

“I can see the ocean,” he called out as soon as his eyes had adjusted to the bright sunlight again, “Missandei, look! I didn’t know it was so close!” 

 

Rhaego had never been in this part of the castle before. 

 

Missandei smiled at him and Grey Worm nodded seriously. 

 

“Yes, Prince Rhaego, we don’t have to walk far, the beach is at the end of these steps,” Grey Worm pointed towards the stairs that led down from one end of the landing, “The steps are quite steep. I advise caution.” 

 

Rhaego nodded hastily before darting towards the first step. “I’m always careful.” 

 

Missandei was just a little bit quicker than him and caught him by the shoulder. “Remember that if you hurt yourself we will have to go back inside. Take it slow, alright?” 

 

As always, her voice was soft and calm. Rhaego didn’t know anyone else who had such a nice voice as Missandei did. And he thought it was quite helpful that she was always so calm, especially when he got very excited and all wriggly with too much energy. It helped him calm down a bit, too. 

 

He nodded at her. “Yes, I know. Sorry. I won’t run, I promise.” 

 

They all made it down to the beach unscathed. It was indeed a pretty steep climb Rhaego had to admit, much too steep for Elaena’s little legs, so she made the trip down safely in Missandei's arms. The steps had been cut into a rock wall and led right onto soft sand. When Rhaego looked up and craned his neck he could see the castle sitting atop and overlooking the little bay that enclosed a short stretch of white, sandy beach. From high above the ocean had appeared dark blue, but from up close it was almost crystal clear. 

 

“Over here,” Grey Worm announced and pointed at a tent without walls that was set up to their right , “Her Grace Queen Daenerys requested a canopy for sun protection for Prince Rhaego and Princess—"

 

Missandei reached out her hand and placed it on Grey Worm’s arm. “It’s alright, my love. For today, they’re just Rhaego and Elaena. Trust me, they could not care less about the formalities. We’re here to enjoy ourselves. Daenerys said so herself, remember? You deserve it.”

 

“And you’re the only person who calls me _that_ anyway,” Rhaego chimed in before Grey Worm could disagree, “well, you _and_ my Pa when I’m in trouble.” 

 

Missandei started laughing heartily and even Grey Worm grinned amusedly. _Much better_ , Rhaego thought. Maester Samwell had once said that smiling was good for the heart and laughing goof for the soul. Being so serious all the time couldn’t be healthy at all. 

 

The sand beneath the canopy had been covered with blankets and cushions and there was a table laid out with food and drinks. 

Rhaego, however, didn’t pay much attention to any of it, merely dropped his backpack onto a pillow and was already halfway down to the water when Missandei called him back, waving a jar filled with a creamy white ointment at him. 

 

“We need to put this on first or the sun will burn your skin within the hour. We don’t want that, now do we?” 

 

“We don’t,” Rhaego sighed. 

 

He’d had a sunburn before. It’d happened back when they were still living in Meereen, and even though that felt like ages ago the stinging pain on his back and shoulders was still fresh in his mind. 

 

“What exactly _is_ that?” he asked, sniffing warily as Missandei rubbed the paste all over his face. When he opened his eyes again he caught sight of his sister happily crawling around on all fours and giggling cheerfully, a nervous Grey Worm following her around and trying to prevent her from putting her sandy hands in her mouth. 

 

“Maester Samwell gave it to me. It’s coconut oil and zinc powder and … something else. Smells good, doesn’t it?” 

 

He nodded and Missandei smiled and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his oily nose. “All done. Let it soak in for a moment before you go into the water, please!” 

 

“Will you come with me?” 

 

Rhaego knew how to swim. His Pa had taught him during their time at Harrenhal on their way to King’s Landing. But it was different here. The ocean had waves. Not monstrously big, but still. Of course Rhaego wasn’t scared. He never got scared. Or rarely. But Missandei herself had said to be careful. He was really just doing what he’d been told. 

 

“I have to keep an eye on your sister,” Missandei nodded her head at Elaena and Grey Worm, “I don’t think a tummy full of sand will be favorable to her sleeping through the night. How about you ask Grey Worm? He’s a a pretty good swimmer. Did you know?” 

 

No, Rhaego hadn’t known. It made him feel braver about the waves. Luckily, Missandei was able to convince Grey Worm pretty quickly  that she and Elaena would still be well protected with five guards by their side and him not more than hundred feet away. Grey Worm began unbuckling his leather armor. Rhaego had watched and helped his Pa take off his armor many times and when Grey Worm removed his sword sheathed in a matching scabbard from his belt Rhaego offered to hold it. Grey Worm froze for a moment. Rhaego thought he almost looked shocked. 

 

"Go ahead,” Missandei encouraged, “he knows what he’s doing. Rhaego is a really good helper.” 

 

“Yes, but Prince Rhae… what I mean is … he is—” 

 

“I promise I won’t drop it,” Rhaego assured him, picking up the weapon when Grey Worm finally offered it to him, “I help my Pa all the time. He says I’m much stronger than I look. Ser Jorah says so, too.” 

 

Carrying the sword over to the tent without walls, he determined it was a bit lighter and shorter than his Pa’s, but still significantly bigger than his practice sword. When he turned around again Missandei was giving Grey Worm an unreasonably long grown up kiss. Rhaego rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind kisses. He still let his Mama and Missandei and his Pa kiss him once or twice a day. He was trying to be more stingy with them now because he thought he was getting too old to endure the same amount of kisses his little sister had to. 

 

Grey Worm caught up with him when he reached the water’s edge, little waves licking at his toes, his ankles, and then his calves. It wasn’t nearly as cold as he’d expected. Emboldened, he moved forward, soon wading through knee-deep water, the waves already reaching his navel. Finally, walking got too difficult and he started swimming. 

 

_Pull with your arms, kick like a frog._

 

He remembered it! But before he could call out to Grey Worm, he felt himself spun around and dragged under water. Surprised, he gulped a huge mouthful of very salty water. When his feet found the sandy ground again he pushed himself up, spluttering and coughing as he tried to draw in some much needed air through his nose and mouth. He felt a hand pat his back. 

 

“Never swallow ocean water, Pr— … Rhaego. It is very salty. Keep your mouth closed and breathe through your nose. And most importantly: _Always_ keep an eye on the waves!” 

 

He coughed a final time and rubbed at his stinging eyes. 

 

“How?," he complained indignantly, "they're stronger than me!” 

 

Grey Worm shook his head. “Strength is not all that matters. You need the right technique. The waves are not your enemy. They can be your friend if you know how to handle them.”

 

Rhaego frowned, but Grey Worm nodded earnestly. 

 

“I will show you.”

 

Rhaego watched as Grey Worm walked deeper into the water until it reached the waistband of his breeches. For a moment he simply stood there, waiting, his head turned away from the shore.  Another wave approached, breaking just before it hit Grey Worm and in the same moment he dove, launching himself into a front crawl, paddling with both arms as the wave lifted him up, propelling him forward towards the beach. 

 

Grey Worm was _riding on_ the wave! 

 

Rhaego was stunned. From behind him he heard Missandei's cheers and clapping and his sister’s delighted squeals at the sudden excitement. 

 

“Wow!” he marvelled as Grey Worm go to his feet in the knee-deep water, “How do you know how to do that?” 

 

Grey Worm shrugged. “I learned how to swim as part of my training. In the beginning, the waves would always knock me over, too. After some time I learned that instead of trying to defy them I could use their force to my advantage. In a way, it is like combat and—,” he paused, then shook his head and smiled. Rhaego was sure he’d never seen Grey Worm smile as much as he had in the past two days. “No, never mind.” He motioned to the water. Do you want to try?”

 

Rhaego nodded. “Yes,” he admitted, “but will you help me?” He wasn’t scared anymore. Maybe just a tiny bit nervous. 

 

“Here,” Grey Worm said and reached out for him, “hold onto my arm.”

 

They went in far enough so the water went up to Rhaego’s belly. Whenever a wave came, Grey Worm lifted his arm and Rhaego along with it, the water sloshing around him as the wave broke, but never pulling him under. 

 

It didn’t quite work on the first attempt. Grey Worm told Rhaego when to start paddling but he wasn’t fast enough and the wave rolled past them. The second one was better, and after the third, Rhaego had gotten the hang of it. He used his arms _and_ legs to kick as fast as he could and it was only a few seconds before he felt himself pushed forward. It took him a moment to realize he was gliding - no, _riding_ \- on the wave. And it felt even better than it had looked. _What a thrill!_ Perhaps this was how his brothers felt when they were flying. The force of the water seemed to flow through his body now, he could feel the rush of energy all the way down to his little toes. He let out a whoop of joy as the wave swept him along, carrying him all the way onto the sandy shore. For a moment he remained where he was, belly-down in the shallow water, trying to catch his breath. 

 

“Bravo, Rhaego!,” he heard Missandei applaud and when he stood up he saw his little sister teetering towards him through the soft sand, beaming at him with her still mostly toothless smile. Rhaego grinned and spread his arms out for her. 

 

“Come here, Leni! You can do it! You’re almost there!”

 

With an excited squeak she threw herself at him and Rhaego caught her, hoisting her up into his arms. Missandei, who’d trailed a few steps behind Elaena came to stand beside him, ruffling his wet hair, then hugging them both against her. 

 

“Well done, both of you,” she smiled down at him and Rhaego was sure that aside from his Mama, there was not a single person in all of Westeros who had a happier smile than Missandei. 

 

They turned and waved at Grey Worm still in the water, waiting for Rhaego to join him again. At Rhaego’s excited “I’m coming!,” Missandei took Elaena from him and laughing, motioned for him to go. He began racing towards the water but then stopped in his tracks and turned around again. 

 

“I think Grey Worm could be a really good Pa.” 

 

He wasn’t sure when exactly the thought had struck him. But it was absolutely clear to him, now. His Pa had said babies were made when a man and a woman loved each other. He knew for a fact that Missandei and Grey Worm were in love. It was so obvious he assumed even Elaena probably knew. And Elaena didn’t know that many things. Not yet, anyway. It would be nice to have more children around in the Red Keep. Even though they would be babies first and it would take a while before he could play with them properly, it couldn’t hurt to remind the busy grown ups to make some. With the war won and the evil queen gone, there really was no reason not to. Otherwise, who would be his friend when he was king one day? Who would be his Ser Davos and his Ser Jorah? Who would be his Lord Tyrion? And his Missandei? Who would be there after they’d all gone to the night lands? His Mama always said he wasn’t supposed to worry about that now, that it wasn’t for many, _many_ years that they would go. But he knew the day he became king would be the day his parents would leave. He tried not to worry about it, but he still knew. If his parents were building a better future as everyone said they were, it wasn’t supposed to be for just Elaena and him. He wanted to share that future with as many friends as possible. 

 

Rhaego took off again, the water splashing around him as he galloped through it. For now, he had friends to share this day with. It was one of those days he would remember forever, he thought as he saw a new wave rolling towards him and, with a loud _yippee_ , duck dived right into it. 

 

What Rhaego couldn’t see was Missandei’s wistful smile, the way she swallowed visibly against the sudden lump in her throat, and the quick yet unmistakable hand gesture to wipe away a stray tear. 

 

“I think so, too,” she whispered to the toddler in her arms, hugging Elaena a bit tighter. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was exactly one week before his 7th nameday that Rhaego visited a King's Landing's new school. 

 

His Mama woke him earlier than usual that morning and when he wanted to put on the clothes from the day before that sat neatly folded on a chair in his room, she told him they wouldn’t do for the special day. While she rummaged through closets and drawers to find him an appropriate outfit, he rolled his eyes at her the way his Pa did sometimes. To avoid repercussions it was crucial to make sure his Mama didn’t see the misdeed, so he sat down on the floor facing away from her, a still serenely slumbering Ghost next to him. 

 

_Lucky bugger_ , Rhaego thought. It was against the rules to say _bugger_ , but most of the time thinking it was good enough. It was going to be a long and dreadfully boring day. _Official Royal Engagements_ , as Lord Tyrion called them, always were. Rhaego absolutely loathed them. The stiff clothes that weren’t supposed to get dirty, the smiling and waving, the cheek pinches, and, probably worst of all, the mind-numbingly dull speeches. His Pa was usually a pretty good storyteller. But for some reason he was lousy at giving speeches. At least Rhaego thought so. Speeches were generally a rather pointless convention, he’d come to realize. 

 

“Are you excited to see the new school we built?,” came his Mama’s voice from inside the closet. “Your Pa was down there a week ago when they were still painting the exterior. He seemed very happy with the results.”

 

“I don’t care,” Rhaego grumbled, curling up next to his direwolf on the floor. If he could _at least_ take Ghost with him … .

 

His Mama emerged from the wardrobe with a stack of beige and red clothes in her hands. 

 

“Oh, but you should! Children from all over the city will be going to our school. They'll finally get a chance to learn how to read and write. And because we want to make sure that _any_ child can attend it will be free of charge because we’re subsidizing it with—“

 

“What’s subsidizing?,” Rhaego interrupted his Mama. He hadn’t forgotten that it was against the rules. Sometimes, being grumpy made him care less about the rules than he should. 

 

“It means that the school will receive financial support. _We_ will be paying for everything they’ll need to run it.” 

 

“Ah”, Rhaego mumbled against Ghost’s fur. “Who’s they?” 

 

Discarding the clothes on Rhaego’s bed, his Mama came to kneel next to him and gently ran a hand through Rhaego’s hair. He immediately felt a little less grumpy. 

 

“The teachers,” she explained, shifting so she was sitting cross-legged beside him. 

 

“Maester Samwell?,” he inquires, suddenly more interested. 

 

His Mama smiled. “No, not Maester Samwell. We need him up here to teach you.” She reached out and tickled him under his chin like he often did with Ghost. “But there are other teachers. Luckily, Sam is not the only one in the city.” 

 

That was news to Rhaego. Admittedly, he’d not given much thought to the issue until now. The floor was getting increasingly uncomfortable, so he lifted himself off Ghost and climbed into his Mamas lap. He was welcomed with a kiss to his forehead as he wrapped his arms around her neck. 

 

“I need you to stop growing, my sweet,” his Mama murmured into his hair. “I want you to stay little forever. Can you do that for me please?” 

 

Rhaego turned his head to look up at her. 

 

“But I’m not little anymore, Mama!,” he scolded and his Mama chuckled. 

 

“No, you’re not. What are we going to do once you get too big to sit in my lap?” 

 

Rhaego shrugged. “Then you can sit in my lap, Mama.” 

 

Hearing his Mama laugh was still Rhaego’s favorite sound in the entire world. 

 

“What’s so funny?”, came from the open door and Rhaego turned around and saw that his Pa had walked in. He was only half dressed, carrying Elaena with one arm, and a bunch of clothes with the other.

 

“I’m afraid that’s highly confidential,” his Mama replied, winking at Rhaego, and his Pa snorted. 

 

“Well, _I’m_ afraid what’s not so confidential is the fact that we’re running late. Tyrion’s going to have a fit if we don’t make it on time.” 

 

His Mama groaned and Rhaego joined in. It was a complete mystery to him why Lord Tyrion was so keen on doing all these _engagements._

 

“Alright then,” his Mama sighed, “Jon, get a Missandei to change Elaena. Why is she still wearing her night clothes?” She shook her head but kept smiling, so Rhaego knew she wasn’t truly cross with his Pa. She turned to him. “Rhaego, put on those clothes over there. No complaining. And we’re not leaving before you haven’t brushed your hair.” 

 

His Pa was already halfway out the doorway when she called after him: “Put on a shirt, Jon. You’re distracting the maids.” 

 

\--

 

Rhaego had to admit his Pa had been right. The new school building looked nice, welcoming, almost like a normal house, only bigger. It was painted white with wooden window frames and a tall, red door covering the entrance, which made it stand out among the other sand colored brick buildings surrounding it. As usual, crowds awaited them, both outside and inside the school, and Rhaego wondered for the hundredth time why all these people seemed so thoroughly interested in staring at them. And then there were those who were always trying to touch him, or his parents, or Elaena, as they were walking past. It was bizarre. He couldn’t remember ever feeling the acute need to touch a stranger. 

 

There were speeches, and lots of different people thanking his parents, shaking hands, congratulating each other (on what, Rhaego had no idea) and every now and then a sympathetic squeeze on his shoulder from Missandei, as well as whispered reminders to keep smiling. All in all, it was as dull as he’d expected. _As dull as dirty dishwater_ , Gendry the Smith would’ve said. He missed Gendry the Smith. And Arya, and his Aunt Sansa, and— His thoughts were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice and an unfamiliar face looking down at him. 

 

“My Prince, would you like me to show you one of our new classrooms?” 

 

He wanted to ask what exactly a classroom was, and for the people to call him Rhaego, but when he noticed how many pairs of eyes were suddenly on him, he didn’t dare to. Instead, he only nodded. The unfamiliar face belonged to a lady with brown hair. She was neither old nor young, but Rhaego thought she seemed kind. He was led out of the room, down a staircase and a hallway until the lady stopped in front of a closed door.

 

“This classroom is already in use. Lessons started as soon as the inside of the building had been finished. I thought it might be interesting for you to visit one. And the children will be excited to meet you, too.”

 

The lady was looking at him as if she was waiting for him to reply. He wasn’t sure what to say because she hadn’t asked really asked him a question. So he nodded again. 

 

“Alright then,” she said brightly, then gave the door three quick, firm raps before turning the handle and pushing it open. Rhaego followed her inside and when he finally raised his head, he felt his heart skip a beat. The room was lined with rows of desks, a child sitting behind each one. And again, everyone was staring at him. For some reason, being under the scrutiny of his peers made Rhaego even more uneasy than being gaped upon usually did. Suddenly, he felt ridiculous in his colorful clothes, and it took all his willpower to resist the urge to turn around and run. 

 

“Children, please welcome His Grace, Prince Rhaego of House Targaryen. He’s visiting our new school today together with his parents, His Grace, King Jon and Her Grace, Queen Daenerys. The King and Queen are our school’s benefactors. We have them to thank for this beautiful new building, your new books and quills, the food we serve for our daily hot meals … .” 

 

The lady’s voice was drowned out by an indistinct yet fairly loud murmur that went through the room. Another lady standing next to them - Rhaego hadn’t even noticed her until now - raised her hand and the noise quieted down. She took a step towards the first row of desks and said: 

 

“Why don’t we greet Prince Rhaego properly? All of us together?”

 

No one said anything. Most of the children were still looking at Rhaego.

 

“Do all of you still remember the song we sang last week?” 

 

A few children nodded.

 

"Very well then," the lady encouraged. "Let's sing for our special guest, shall we?" 

 

She motioned for the children to stand, then raised both her hands, and when she dropped them again, everyone started singing at the same time. 

 

 

_The Father's face is stern and strong,_

_he sits and judges right from wrong._

_He weighs our lives, the short and long,_

_and loves the little children_

_The Mother gives the gift of life,_

_and watches over every wife._

_Her gentle smile ends all strife,_

_and she loves her little children_

_The Warrior stands before the foe,_

_protecting us where e'er we go._

_With sword and shield and spear and bow,_

_he guards the little children._

_The Crone is very wise and old,_

_and sees our fates as they unfold._

_She lifts her lamp of shining gold_

_to lead the little children._

_The Smith, he labors day and night,_

_to put the world of men to right._

_With hammer, plow, and fire bright,_

_he builds for little children._

_The Maiden dances through the sky,_

_she lives in every lover's sigh._

_Her smiles teach the birds to fly,_

_and gives dreams to little children._

_The Seven Gods who made us all,_

_are listening if we should call._

_So close your eyes, you shall not fall,_

_they see you, little children._

_Just close your eyes, you shall not fall,_

_they see you, little children._

 

  

Rhaego was mesmerized. He hadn't known that singing was part of school lessons. And to his even greater surprise he knew the song. His Aunt Sansa had sung it to him many times when he hadn't been able to find sleep during the long and bitter cold winter nights in the final days of the war. Even though he remembered the dread he'd felt back then, knowing that so many of his friends, his brothers, _his parents_ , were fighting in a battle that seemed impossible to win, Rhaego realized he really liked the song. His Aunt Sansa had a beautiful, gentle voice. It had been his only comfort during these darkest hours, when it had only been her and Rhaego and a handful of guards left at Winterfell. 

 

After the children finished the last verse it was quiet for a moment. Rhaego wasn't sure what was expected of him. But then he remembered what grown ups usually did after a musical performance. He'd seen quite a few over the last year. This had definitely been his favorite. Despite it feeling a bit odd, Rhaego started clapping. At first, it was only him, blank faces once again staring back at him. Then he noticed the two ladies next to him had joined in, and a few seconds later, someone in the second row started clapping, too. More followed and soon, the entire room was filled with applause. The faces in front of him were no longer expressionless, but smiling, the ones that he could see, at least. Rhaego smiled back. 

 

"Bravo!" He shouted over the noise and the ladies nodded at him gratefully. 

 

"Thank you, children, that was wonderful," one of them said and turned to Rhaego. "Before you go, my Prince—" 

 

"Rhaego," Rhaego said hurriedly, "just Rhaego, please." 

 

The lady looked confused for a moment, and Rhaego was worried she might feel offended at being interrupted. But then she winked at him, her thin lips curling up in a smile again. 

 

"Of course. Rhaego. Well, I'm sure you're already missed upstairs. But before you go, would you like to see what we are working on?" 

 

"Aye," Rhaego agreed, "please. I would love to." And then, remembering another one of his parents' good behavior rules, he hastily added: "Thank you!" 

 

"Who would like to introduce Rhaego to marble math? Any volunteers?," the lady said, now addressing the children behind their desks again. 

 

Rhaego noticed somebody raising their arm in one of the rows towards the back of the room. 

 

"Yes, Reka," the lady said and Rhaego almost toppled over. 

 

_Reka._

 

"Would you please come to the front and show Rhaego how we multiply three times five with the help of our marbles?" 

 

Rhaego could hear his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

 

_His friend Reka._

 

She'd gotten up from her seat behind her desk and was walking towards him. Her long braids had fallen over her shoulders and were swaying back and forth as she came closer. If she recognized him, she didn't let on. Without a word, she took a handful of marbles from a small wooden box, then moved over to a table on which sat a likewise wooden board that had two rows of small, circular holes carved into it. She counted five marbles and deposited them into the first hole of the bottom row, repeating this two more times

 

"Can you explain to Rhaego what you're doing there, Reka?"

 

Reka didn't answer the lady, but finally looked at Rhaego and pointed at the first hole and the marbles inside. 

 

"Five marbles in here," she said, and Rhaego was half shocked, half impressed by her cockiness. "Plus five in here," she slid her finger over the board to the next hole, and then to the last, "and another five in here. Five plus five plus five."

 

"Yes, well done," the lady praised, "and what is—"

 

"Fifteen," Reka cut her short, fishing the marbles out of the holes and dropping them into the box again. 

 

As the other children started to laugh the lady turned away from them, urging them to calm down. 

 

Rhaego noticed that Reka was standing next to him when she whispered into his ear: "Did you bring Ghost?"

 

Rhaego shook his head.

 

Reka shrugged. "Next time then," and with that she turned around and strolled back to her seat, giving a chubby boy in the second row a poke in his side as she walked past him. 

 

_Aye_ , Rhaego thought, _next time then_.

 

\--

 

During dinner that night, Rhaego was unusually quiet. The day had taken a completely unexpected turn and there was much to ponder. Even the honeyed chicken, his favorite dish, couldn't distract him from his thoughts. He hadn't previously given much thought to how and where other children studied and took their lessons, mostly because there were hardly any children his age around he could've asked. School had been a word he didn't use often as it stood for a concept that was too abstract, elusive, almost mythical to him and that he knew very little about. Today, that had changed. 

 

"Are you not hungry, my love?" 

 

"What?" he said, raising his head and finding both of his parents looking at him quizzically. 

 

"Pardon?," his Mama reminded him and his Pa waggled his eyebrows teasingly. "What's wrong? You've barely touched your dinner." 

 

Rhaego sighed, glancing at Elaena in her high chair. She had gravy smeared all around her mouth and hands and seemed very pleased with herself. 

 

"Why am I not going to school?"

 

Of course, Rhaego wasn't stupid. On the contrary, he was pretty smart. And he was fairly sure he already knew the answer he was about go get. 

 

"You're the Crown Prince, Rhaego. Most of the things Maester Samwell is teaching you are not taught at regular schools. And as a future king, you need to know them to be able to rule justly and wisely, to be able to live up to your responsibility." 

 

And there it was. _He was different._  His Mama was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. 

 

"But what if I don't want to?" 

 

He didn't really mean that. He was being stubborn now. Sometimes, he just couldn't help it. 

 

" _Do_ you not want to?" 

 

His Mama didn't sound one bit rattled, which - Rhaego wasn't sure why - irked him. 

 

He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyes to the ceiling. He wanted to stay cross with his parents for a moment and it was easier when he wasn't looking right at them. 

 

"I don't know," he replied snottily. There was a loud, metallic clank, followed by his sister's giggles and his Pa's unsuccessfully stifled snort of laughter. Rhaego fought the urge to take a peek at what was going on. 

 

"What is this really about, Rhaego?," his Pa asked after a while. At the sound of his voice Rhaego lowered his head. Suddenly, he felt shy. And a bit embarrassed. 

 

"I don't have any friends," he finally confessed, and even his whisper voice seemed too loud, as his words echoed in his ears. 

 

His Mama got up and moved her chair closer to his, sitting down right next to him. 

 

"Look at me, sweetling." He turned to her. "You have _many_ friends. As far as I know, there is not a single person that has met you that didn't want to be your friend. And with good reason." She took his hand and held it tightly between hers. "I know I'm your Mama and that you think it doesn't count when I say this but … ," she smiled that smile that lit up her entire face and Rhaego felt his heart become a little less heavy, "… you're pretty - excuse my language - _darn phenomenal,_ Rhaego." 

 

"Rhae," Elaena announced proudly with a piece of potato falling out of her mouth, pointing a sticky finger at her brother. 

 

"See," his Mama laughed, "your sister agrees. She's rather fond of you, too" 

 

"And that," his Pa made an indistinct hand motion towards his Mama, "is the understatement of the century." 

 

His Mama stuck out her tongue at his Pa, which Elaena promptly imitated.

 

"Look, I think I know what you're trying to say." His Pa was looking at him with that face that meant that he was about to say something serious, but _not_ because Rhaego was in trouble. "There really aren't a lot of children your age around here." _None_ , Rhaego thought. "And I agree, that needs to change."

 

Rhaego watched the brief silent conversation that passed between their parents. He could tell that his Pa was more resolute than he usually was. He did not back down and when he spoke again, his Mama was still eyeing him with cocked eyebrows. The glare in her eyes reminded Rhaego of Ghost's watchful look that he wore whenever he accompanied him or Elaena on a trip outside of the castle.

 

"Back when I was growing up at Winterfell I had my siblings, and a bunch of other children around to play with … well, mostly to get into fist fights and roll around in the mud with … ," his Pa chuckled throatily. For a brief moment, his eyes appeared slightly unfocused. Rhaego sat as still as he possibly could. His Pa didn't talk about his childhood very often. Most of the things he knew about that time Arya and his Aunt Sansa had told him. He was too curious to hear a bit more from him. 

 

"We have ten ponies down at the stables and no one for Rhaego to ride them with. And why is he learning how to spar when he doesn't even have anyone to spar with? Jorah is getting older, too. I'm sure he would appreciate—" 

 

"Jorah is doing just _fine_ ," his Mama chided in an unusually harsh tone, then took a sharp breath through her nose and shook her head slightly. "Jorah doesn't mind spending time with the children," she corrected herself, her voice much softer now, "He's family, Jon. He loves them." 

 

His Pa smiled his warm smile at his Mama. Rhaego recognized this particular expression as the one he always wore when he was trying to soothe an upset Elaena or comfort Rhaego when he'd been reckless and fallen off a tree or a chair or a windowsill or something else he'd wanted to climb. 

 

"I don't doubt that for a second, Dany. The children love Jorah and he loves them. But that's beside the point. Our son still needs playmates of his own size and his own age."

 

His sister had started complaining quite vehemently, most likely due to the lack of attention from her parents and big brother,  so his Mama got up, extricated her from her highchair and settled her in her lap. 

 

"What is it you propose we do, then?," she asked, holding a now content Elaena against her as if she was afraid she might run away. 

 

When his Pa did not reply right away, Rhaego seized the opportunity. 

 

"Maybe I can go to school _and_ do my lessons with Maester Samwell?" 

 

Three pairs of eyes were now fixed on him, two of which were looking rather doubtful. 

 

"It's not that simple, sweetheart," his Mama began, "I don't think tha—" 

 

" _We_ think we shouldn't rule out your idea without considering it at all." This time it was his Pa interrupting. Rhaego made a mental note to remind his parents they really needed to be better at following their own rules. 

 

"Oh, do _we_ think that?," his Mama frowned. Elaena cooed approvingly, which made everyone laugh. 

 

"Yes, my love," his Pa said overly sweetly and winked at Rhaego, " _yes, we do_." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

And it was on the voyage back to Winterfell that Rhaego realized his story, although far from over, was in dire need of an epilogue. 

 

 

It was a very, _very_ long journey, almost as long as when he and his Mama had first sailed to Westeros from the Bay of Dragons. Before heading north for White Harbour, they'd first gone south from King's Landing to visit Dorne. His parents had said it would be like a vacation. And with the exception of a few minor incidents, it had been. In fact, Rhaego'd had an altogether splendid time. Over the past three weeks, he'd been allowed to eat an unprecedented amount of sweets, stay up late almost every night to attend feasts and festivities, visit the place - the top of mountain where a tower had once stood - where his Pa had been born, stroll around markets and buy a big crate of fresh lemons for his Aunt Aunt Sansa to bake her favorite cake, and share a big bed with his parents and sister. (Well, he'd slept in said big bed except for one night, when his Pa had suddenly snatched Rhaego off the bed during his new favorite game he'd named  _pillow hopping_ , thrown him over his shoulder and, Elaena already tucked under his arm, had marched them over to Missandei and Grey Worm's room. ' _Daenerys and I need some time to … talk_ ', he'd said and for some reason Missandei had laughed as she'd met them at the door and ushered them inside and into _their_ big bed. Sleeping there had been a fun adventure, too, and after their talk his parents had been in an exceptionally good mood the next morning.) 

 

Even though his Pa had been born in Dorne, he had complained about the heat almost constantly. Elaena hadn't been too happy about it, either, so while she and his Pa had taken long naps in the shade during the hottest hours of the day around noon, Rhaego and his Mama had gone exploring. They'd visited the Water Gardens accompanied by their host, a fierce lady named Ellaria and her daughters Obella and Elia, both of whom Rhaego had grown to like very much, and one afternoon they'd taken Drogon out for a ride and together with Missandei had gone on a trip to Starfall, a beautiful castle that was built on an island. The island on which the castle sat was not surrounded by an ocean, but by the rushing waters of a river. Rhaego had found that particularly intriguing. By the end of their excursion to Starfall Rhaego had been so smitten with the place that he'd suggested they should move in, as the castle seemed uninhabited. But his Mama had explained that Starfall belonged to House Dayne and wasn't theirs to take. 

 

It had been an adventurous and incredibly fun three weeks in Dorne, and when it had been time to say goodbye to their new friends, Rhaego had shed a few tears. He'd found it was entirely unfair that he had to leave behind the ones he cared about, time and time again. He'd been glum about it until his Pa had reminded him that he was going to see his Winterfell family again in only a matter of a few short weeks. The prospect of being reunited with Arya and Gendry the Smith, of finally giving his Aunt Sansa her lemons and visiting all his friends down in the kitchens, at the stables and in the winter town, had cheered him up significantly. Besides, Rhaego really, _really_ liked boat travel. 

 

One early morning, as he still lay comfortably snuggled up in his old bed in his cabin that was now his and Elaena's cabin, he thought about how nice it was to know that this time around, as they were traveling north, it wasn't a battle that awaited them, it was a wedding. So much had changed, and most of it for the better. _And some things I don't ever want to change_ , Rhaego thought as he looked down at Ghost who was sprawled out on a rug right next to his bed. He was listening to his sister's even breathing - miraculously she was still asleep, Elaena seemed to like boats just as much as she did - when he heard  footsteps outside of their cabin, the sound growing fainter as they climbed up the wooden steps to the main deck. Curiosity overtook and Rhaego slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, slid his bare feet into his sandals he found near the door and managed to leave the cabin without waking his sister. Instead of his Pa, who usually woke up earlier, he found his Mama atop deck, dressed in her nightgown and a robe, standing by the railing. When he reached her side she turned to him and smiled, wrapping an arm around him and placed a kiss atop his sleep mussed hair. 

 

"Why are you up so early, Mama?," Rhaego asked and leaned against her. 

 

She sighed. "I felt a bit queasy and needed some fresh air. You?" 

 

"Too many happy thoughts", he replied and shrugged and his Mama chuckled. 

 

"That's not a bad way to wake up," she said and Rhaego nodded. 

 

"Are you seasick like Lord Tyrion?" 

 

"I might be," she admitted, resting her chin atop his head, "we'll see." 

 

\--

 

It took them almost another three weeks to reach White Harbor. From there, instead of taking the King's Road by horse, they flew the rest of the way to Winterfell. Rhaego didn't mind long trips on dragonback. He was used to them. And flying was always exciting. But they still had to take a few breaks for Elaena's sake. His little sister had to travel strapped to their Pa's back in a cotton sling and only tolerated the significant restriction on her mobility for a limited amount of time until she got cranky and started to complain. Rhaego thought it had been much easier when she'd still been a little baby. 

 

Arya, Gendry the Smith and his Aunt Sansa were waiting for them outside Winterfell's gates and as soon as Drogon had touched ground, Rhaego slid down his brother's scaly neck and ran towards them. He didn't know who to greet first but spontaneously threw himself into his Aunt Sansa's waiting arms as she bent down to pick him up. 

 

"I missed you so much," he mumbled into her hair as he wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. 

 

"And I you, Rhaego boy," she whispered into his ear and sniffled. 

 

_Happy tears_ , Rhaego decided, gladly accepting her kisses on each cheek and one to the tip of his nose, before being set down again.

 

"You're almost as tall as I am," Arya cried out before embracing him, too. 

 

Rhaego tried to stand on his tip toes. It wasn't entirely true, but she was right, he had grown quite a bit.

 

"Prince Rhaego!," Gendry the Smith grinned, making an exaggerated bow in his direction and Rhaego giggled. 

 

After everyone had said their hellos, they watched the dragons take off and then made their way inside the castle. Rhaego was stunned at how different everything looked. He could still tell that it was Winterfell, but in many ways it was a better version of the once so gloomy and worn down castle. He'd loved the old Winterfell, but he already liked the new one, too. It looked like the stone walls had been scrubbed and the wooden beams had gotten a fresh coat of paint. The courtyard was lined with cobblestone now and climbing rose vines had been planted by the entrance to the inner castle. 

 

"You've been busy," his Pa remarked and Rhaego could see he was proud of his sisters. They really had done a tremendous job. 

 

The first week back at Winterfell flew by and a few days after everyone who'd traveled on horseback from White Harbour had arrived, it was time for Rhaego's parents to leave again.

 

"Not for long," his Mama promised, as they watched supplies being loaded onto horses and carts, "we will be back in time for the wedding." 

 

Rhaego had expected Elaena to make a fuss, but when his Pa picked her up to kiss her goodbye she squirmed and quickly wiggled free, continuing her chase of a stray cat around the yard. 

 

"Thank you for looking after them, Sansa. I'm already very sorry for the lack of sleep they will cause you," his Mama said to his Aunt Sansa and Rhaego wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

 

The two women embraced and Rhaego couldn't contain a snicker. Next to his aunt, his Mama was so short she had to stand on her tip toes, too. 

 

"I wouldn't have it any other way," his Aunt Sansa said, winking at Rhaego mischievously. 

 

Rhaego didn't mind staying behind while his parents were away. Of course he would've liked to go with them, too. He'd never been further north than Winterfell and everything he'd heard about the Wall had sounded fascinating. But as he was standing there, barefoot on the daisy-covered lawn in front of the castle gates, waving at his parent's and their entourage take off, he thought it was probably them who'd gotten the short end of the stick. Summer had come to Winterfell, but it was always winter at the wall. And Rhaego didn't miss the cold one bit. 

 

\--

 

The next few weeks were filled to the brim with activities and preparations for the upcoming festivities. Rhaego helped where he could. Together with his Aunt Sansa he picked out fabrics for new curtains and bedspreads for all the bedchambers in Winterfell's guest quarters. More food and wine was delivered almost every day and everywhere he went, Rhaego found maids bustling about, dusting and scrubbing every inch, every nook and every cranny until sparkling clean. 

 

"It's almost as if we were expecting the king himself," Gendry the Smith liked to joke. 

  

The busiest of all places around the castle was undoubtedly the kitchens. One afternoon, Rhaego and Elaena were allowed help make summer berry jam and discovered that licking out the bowls and pots was the best part of the process. Sure enough, sleep didn't come easy that night. 

  

"We're not giving them a pinch of sugar ever again," Arya groaned, watching Rhaego and Elaena rollick around their room long past their bedtime, playing _hopfrog_ on the rug and _monsters-and-maidens_ under the bed and behind wardrobe doors. 

  

"Good luck with that," his Aunt Sansa teased, "better get some practice in while you can ... !"

  

"Oh, shut up," Arya shot back, rolling her eyes at her sister but failing to hide a grin. 

 

They'd gotten so used to life at Winterfell that Rhaego was genuinely surprised when one morning over breakfast his Aunt Sansa announced that they were expecting their parents' return later that day. He'd forgotten to count the days altogether. 

  

The first thing Rhaego noticed as his Mama with the assistance of his Pa dismounted her horse was the suspicious bulge at her waist. 

 

" _Another_ one?," he inquired loudly, setting everyone present roaring with laughter. 

 

"Poor Rhaego," Arya cackled, moving to stand next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "he has no idea what's coming for him." 

 

\--

 

Rhaego and his Pa had ridden out to the secret swimming spot, a small bay at the mouth of a river hidden deep in the wolfswood, when his Pa had - quite out of the blue - begun to tell Rhaego about his brother Robb. Later, when his Pa told him that it had been Robb and him who'd first discovered this spot together, it all made more sense. But unexpected or not, the tales of his Pa's childhood kept him spellbound for the majority of the afternoon. 

 

Even though his Pa had said that Robb and he had been almost the same age, to Rhaego, Robb was his Pa's big brother. His Pa had looked up to Robb, had admired him for his braveness and selflessness and for always being fair and humble. His Pa had even envied Robb sometimes, because his Pa had been a _bastard_ , and Robb hadn't been. Rhaego knew that before the war, when Queen Cersei had still ruled in King's Landing, children whose parents had not been married had been called _bastards_. For a long time, his Pa had believed that he was a bastard, too. It had been a secret that his parents had actually been married, and that they'd both died a very long time ago. 

 

Robb had always stood up for his Pa, when other people had been mean to him for being a _bastard_. He'd treated his Pa as an equal, even when almost everyone else considered him a lesser person. He'd been his brother _and_ his best friend. His Pa would have given his life for his brother, and he knew Robb would have done the same thing. They'd done almost everything together: their first haircut, their first sword fight, their first cup of ale, even their first crush on a girl. (Rhaego now knew that _crush_ meant they'd liked the girl.) When Ghost had come to his Pa, Grey Wind had come to Robb. The direwolves had been brothers just like his Pa and Robb had been. 

 

"And we still are," his Pa said, "Robb will always be my brother, no matter where I am or where he is. He's always with me in my heart." 

 

That night, Rhaego went to his parents' bedroom to say goodnight to his Mama. She'd been in pain because of the baby in her belly the day before and Maester Samwell had told her to stay in bed and rest. As much as he loved Elaena, Rhaego couldn't help but think that having babies really was quite a bit of trouble. 

 

"Are you feeling better, Mama?," he asked as he climbed onto the mattress and settled next to his Mama against a big pillow. 

 

"I am, sweetheart," she said and tapped him on the tip of his nose, just like she'd used to do when he'd still been a baby himself, "no need to worry, alright?" 

 

He nodded. "And the baby?" 

 

"According to our Maester Samwell, the baby is happy and healthy and just wanted me to take it easier for a bit." 

 

Rhaego pushed himself off the pillow and moved to sit on his knees, facing his Mama's rounded belly. Carefully placing one hand next to where her bellybutton was, he leaned forward so that his head was level with the baby within.

 

"Be nice to our Mama," he said in his best big brother voice, "she doesn't like staying in bed all day. Arya and Gendry the Smith are getting married and she needs to be well enough to eat and dance. You're too little to know but that's what people do at weddings. I know because I've been to one before." 

 

He looked up at his Mama and when he saw that her eyes were shiny, he pressed a quick kiss to the side of her belly before moving up to give her a hug. He still remembered from back when Elaena had been in her belly that her eyes had gone shiny a lot - quite often she'd even cried for no good reason at all - and a hug was a good way to comfort her. 

 

"What do you think we're getting this time?," she asked him after a moment and he leaned back to look at her. 

 

"Leni and I are getting a brother," Rhaego told her, because it seemed that just like last time, she didn't know. "He will be my best friend, just like Robb was Pa's best friend." 

 

\--

 

The big day came and despite his Aunt Sansa's predictions that they wouldn't be able to get everything done in time, preparations had concluded and everyone was ready. Well, everyone except for Arya. 

 

"Seven bloody hells!", his Pa swore and his Mama made a hissing sound in disapproval. 

 

"Jon! If you don't want your daughter greeting wedding guests like that, I highly suggest you stay away from swear words around her!"

 

His Pa crossed the room in several long steps, entering the adjoining bedroom and returning only seconds later. 

 

"Where the fu— … the _fun_  is Arya? She was just here a minute ago! The guests are waiting!"

 

"I haven't seen her in a while, actually," his Aunt Sansa announced, letting herself fall into an armchair with a sigh. "Gods help her if she made a run for it. I swear, I will skin her alive." 

 

"The children!," his Mama chided again and his Aunt Sansa covered her mouth with her hand apologetically. 

 

And while the squabble among the grown ups continued, Rhaego slipped out of the room unseen. He knew where to find Arya. It really wasn't that difficult to guess. 

 

He found her in her usual spot, on the stool next to the forging furnace. Rhaego's upside down bucket still stood where he'd left it, so he sat down on it right beside her. 

 

"Did they sent you to get me?," Arya asked and Rhaego could hear an unfamiliar tremble in her voice. 

 

"No," he shook his head, "they don't know you're here. But they're looking for you. Pa says the guests are waiting." 

 

"I know," she whispered, hunching her shoulders and burying her face in her hands. "I'm such a wimp." 

 

Rhaego snorted. "No, you're not. You're a hero, Arya. You helped defeat the Army of the Dead!"

 

She raised her head and looked at him, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, her face otherwise stern and tense. 

 

"A hero who's scared of saying a cheesy vow and moving out of her childhood bedroom that is."

 

Rhaego frowned. "But you've left it once before!"

 

"True," Arya admitted, "but that was different. _This_ … is different. Better, in many ways. But for some reason so much scarier."

 

Rhaego pondered this for a moment. Then he said: "Pa always says that it's alright to be scared, because being scared means that you're about to do something really, _really_ brave." 

 

Arya chuckled. It made her face relax and she looked much more like the old Arya again. 

 

"Well, I suppose your Pa knows what he's talking about." 

 

"I was scared to leave Winterfell, too, you know," Rhaego confessed, remembering Missandei's advice that people found comfort in knowing they weren't alone with their problem and their pain. "I was scared because it is my home and leaving it felt wrong."

 

"How do you feel now?"

 

Rhaego scratched his head before he replied, just like his Pa often scratched his beard. 

 

"Now I think that maybe home is not a place."

 

"Hmm," Arya hummed, "but what is it then?" 

 

"A feeling I reckon?," Rhaego ventured thoughtfully, "It's the people, I think. The people you love. And they can't always be in one place at the same time. Pa had to sent Grey Worm away on a mission, even though he didn't want to. He says we all have to do things we don't want to do sometimes. But I think you can always make new homes in different places. And when you have to leave, it's with your feet, but maybe not with your heart?" 

 

Rhaego had given this matter quite a bit of thought since they'd left Winterfell more than two years ago. He wasn't exactly sure about any of what he'd just said, but he figured he should give all the advice he had. 

 

Arya regarded him with a soft smile that Rhaego found was very _unlike her_ , and yet it became her. 

 

"And how do you make a new home?" 

 

"With love," Rhaego assured her, "I think that's all you need to start with." 

 

"And hopes and dreams," Arya said in her whisper voice, but Rhaego heard her anyway.

 

"Aye, that sounds about right," he agreed.

 

Arya laughed and ruffled his unruly hair. 

 

"There's no denying it, Rhaego. You are your Pa's son through and through."

 

She pulled him against her for a moment, then patted his shoulder and got up.

 

"Let's do this," she declared determinedly.

 

"Yes," Rhaego nodded, "let's do this." 

 

 

 


End file.
